A Second Chance
by unitedfaith
Summary: Cameron has a lethal disease and wants to leave PPTH. Will the people who love her hold on to her as she decides to walk out, and get a second chance before it's too late? Storyline until 2nd Season. Rated T because I have no idea where I'll go with this


**AN**: _Right, so, I'm not a doctor. Obviously. I'm a high school student who is honestly too lazy to do research for a fanfic. Doesn't help that wikipedia isn't working. So if I'm wrong about some of the medical terms or conditions as stated in this story, I sincerely apologize. Feel free to correct me, however. Also, I have tons of school projects due for the next week or so, so pardon me for the lack of update. Patience is a virtue. One that I do not possess, but still, nevertheless… One more thing to note… I don't live in America, so I'm only up to date until the end of season two. Yeah… mock me all you want… I apologize sincerely if my story doesn't match the current storyline. Finally… I present you my story._

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As Cameron stared at the resignation letter that she had typed out neatly across the screen of her laptop, she sighed, not being able to believe that this would be the second resignation letter she would have to type in the same job. In two years, nonetheless. She really did not wish to; she was not a quitter. If she made a commitment to something, she rarely ever abandoned it. That was just the way she was. But under the circumstances, she saw no other way.

As much as she would hate to admit it, this job she had at the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was perfect. She had the best co-workers she could dream for, she had a reasonable pay, she was well-liked, she was learning so much, and was getting better and better at what she loved to do best… the list went on and on. She wouldn't give it up for the world. But, it was just something that she had to do. In time, they would understand. House would understand. Or at least she hoped.

She moved her mouse over to the "Print" button, and let it hover over it for a second. Once she handed this in, there was no turning back. She took a deep breath and tried to force that impending migraine out of her head, and rammed her finger down on the mouse before she changed her mind. She could hear the printer whirring into action as it spat out a warm piece of paper. She took it, and with a last sigh, folded it, and hastily shoved it in an envelope.

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Cameron stared at her own reflection in the mirror and saw someone she barely recognized staring right back at her. The news she received just a little over two weeks ago had really changed her. It was strange. She had thought she would be experiencing this paramount surge of emotions, but it was as if her soul had just turned cold. She felt no regret, no pain, no sorrow. She just felt empty. So very empty.

Conversations with others were uncomfortable now, as well. After every sentence anybody would say, Cameron wondered if they would have said the same thing if they knew. Somehow she doubted it. She was living a lie… a lie that she wished was in fact a lie. How she wished that made sense.

She had been drinking a lot more than usual. In fact, a beer bottle was pressed firm in her hands at the moment. Somehow, alcohol seemed to be the only way she could forget about her problems… being drunk was her nirvana, her alternative over crying herself to sleep. And if anyone had paid enough attention to her, they would have realized that. She hated who she had become… but it wasn't her who had made her that way. A sudden anger at the responsible party for her current fate caused a sudden adrenaline to surge through her body, resulting in her throwing the bottle of beer hard at the mirror. Both the mirror and the bottle shattered, and as Cameron saw her own reflection in the now broken mirror, she came to the conclusion that this was who she really was. Shattered, broken, and very much alone.

The doorbell rang incessantly, and disrupted Cameron's train of thought. She wiped the beer off her hands, turned off the rock music she was playing, and headed for the door. The racket outside the door escalated as the sound of wood against wood reverberated – no doubt House trying to knock down the door by smacking it with his cane. Unlocking it, she came face to face with an extremely impatient and irate House.

"What the hell is this?" House spat, waving her resignation letter in her face. This took Cameron by surprise – it was probably the first time she had encountered rage in House's normally calm blue eyes over something so trival.

Refusing to give House the satisfaction of acknowledging his unexpected anger, Cameron disregarded his question, saying, "I heard you the first time you rang the doorbell, you know."

"Right. Is this a joke? 'Cause April Fools' Day is in… I don't know, April?"

Cameron heaved a sigh. Why did he insist on making this so much harder than it already was? "It's not a joke. I'm quitting."

House raised an eyebrow. "Why? What happened? Foreman pissed you off? When are you going to get over that? Chase! He wanted to sleep with you, right?"

"No," Cameron answered, staring at House.

"Wilson?" House asked in mock confusion.

"No," Cameron answered again.

"Oh, God. It's Cuddy, isn't it?" House asked once more.

"No! I'm quitting because I want to, okay?"

House walked closer towards Cameron, as if trying to read her mind by staring at her blue eyes, to the back of her head. "I don't believe you," he whispered harshly.

"Believe whatever you must. I'm quitting," Cameron retorted, breaking his glare by looking away. His eyes did something to her heart. It always had.

"What do you want from me? Another date? A weekend getaway? A marriage proposal?"

Cameron fell silent for a moment. Should she tell him the truth? No, she couldn't. She couldn't tell him. He didn't deserve to know the truth. It was nothing shameful that she felt she should hide… she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

"You know what? I think it's time for you to leave," Cameron said, proceeding to close the door in his face. House stuck his cane out just in time, and jammed the door.

"I think you owe me an explanation," He said calmly, his pale blue eyes pleading her to tell him what the reason behind her sudden resignation was.

"I don't owe you anything. Please leave," Cameron repeated as she felt her migraine coming back, overpowering her. All audio was slowly fading away, and so was her sight. She was beginning to think that maybe those three bottles of beer wasn't such a good idea after all.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're quitting," House retaliated.

"Please go. Leave me alone," Cameron said, her head spinning. Subconsciously, she raised a hand to her temple as a reaction to the pain.

"Why won't you just tell me? If it's secrecy you want, I'll swear I won't tell anyone," House persisted.

"I- I feel… I, uh…" Cameron began, before her form went limp, and she collapsed on House. Unable to balance with her whole weight on him, House fell on the ground as well, his cane flying.

"Cameron? Cameron, are you okay?" he asked, holding the motionless Cameron in his arms. She was unconscious; that was for sure. House lifted her eyelids, and looked into her lifeless blue eyes. He needed to get her to the hospital. Taking his cell phone from his pocket, he speed-dialed Wilson's number, which was the only number that he called enough to store on speed-dial.

"Wilson, I need help," he barked into the phone. He heard Wilson's sigh on the other end of the line.

"I shudder to think what in the world you did this time," came Wilson's weary reply.

"I'm at Cameron's house. She fainted. I need you to come and bring her to the hospital."

"Wait, you knocked her out? What'd you do? Give her an uppercut to the chin?" Wilson asked, trying to stifle a chuckle.

"Would you shut up and come already?" House roared with anger.

"All right, all right. I'll be right there," Wilson said, putting down the phone.

House shoved his phone back into his pocket, and looked at the seemingly asleep Cameron. She looked peaceful, but tired. He hadn't noticed this before. She looked honestly lethargic. He ran his fingers through her soft, neatly brushed brown hair, and did something that he hadn't done in a while. He prayed that she would be all right.

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"House, is she okay?" Chase yelled upon his arrival in the room. He was still panting; he ran up as soon as he had heard. The others were gathered around, even Cuddy had shown up.

"At first I thought it was something trivial that caused her sudden unconsciousness. Like stress, or something. But to be careful, I did an MRI. And I found out something. Her heart, it seems to have weakened, and shrunk. So have her other muscles, under closer examination," House said, allowing his last words to trail off slowly.

"So, what's that, ALS?" glancing on the whiteboard on which House had written his differential diagnosis on. ALS was circled with a black marker that was soon to be drained of ink.

"I'm afraid so. Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. Lou Gehrig's Disease,"

"No way. She's too young. She's way too young," Chase said, his face rigid from the news.

"It can present in younger people… in extremely rare cases, I must admit. I guess… Cameron was…" Foreman let the sentence trail off, unable to think of a suitable word to end it with.

"But… that's incurable. Only one known survivor. Stephen Hawking," Chase said in a small voice. His mind wasn't processing the information that it was being fed fast enough. The word "incurable" echoed throughout his mind, over and over again. It was haunting him.

"No, that can't be right. ALS doesn't cause people to just start fainting at random," Chase said, still unable to digest all that House and Foreman were telling him.

"As hard as it may be for you to realize, I know that too. I did after all enroll at Johns Hopkins, and graduated with two medical degrees," House replied, with a trace of sarcasm, his trademark.

"It's not just ALS that Cameron has. It's ALS and something else. Only, we have no idea what that something else is," Foreman said, tapping his pen on the surface of the glass table.

"Well, then, don't just sit here! Do something!" Chase yelled, obviously losing his temper.

"I've started her on treatment to slow down the ALS, but we can't give her anymore medication until we know what else is wrong with her. If we do, her condition might worsen," House said, glaring at Chase.

"Calm down, Chase. We're doing everything we can," Wilson said, putting a comforting hand on Chase's tensed shoulder.

"What- What the hell were you doing at her house? Was it something you said? You pissed her off, didn't you, you pompous-" Chase began, stomping towards House, before Wilson put a restraining grip on Chase's wrists.

"Would you just calm down? She resigned. I was at her apartment, trying to convince her to take her job back!" House barked at Chase. Those words seemed to have an effect on Chase, as he freed himself from Wilson, and took a seat at the table.

"What makes you so sure that it wasn't just stress, like you mentioned earlier? Or maybe she forgot to eat her lunch, or something," Chase asked, with a genuine look of worry in his eyes. He was no longer charged with rage.

"I tested her blood pressure. It was normal. It wouldn't have been stress. And her body wasn't lacking in anything. She did eat her meals regularly. It has to be something else," House replied.

"Maybe it's drugs. Maybe she did drugs. Some form of drugs can cause painful headaches and sometimes loss of consciousness. Especially if someone is trying to quit. Detox can be hell," Foreman suggested.

"Of course, you would know, wouldn't you?" House said.

"No, you would," Chase retorted.

Ignoring what Chase had said, House said, "There is no way Cameron took drugs. You guys know her."

"Actually, it's not that hard to believe. She did take drugs before. Meth, to be exact," Chase spoke up.

"Cameron? Drugs? You can't be serious," House said, in genuine disbelief.

"About a year ago. Right after she thought she was HIV positive."

"And how do you know that?" House asked skeptically.

"I, uh- I went to her house to check up on her, to see if she wanted to go get a few drinks together, and found her high," Chase replied, his pulse rising, as he recalled the exact events of that night. There was something he wasn't telling House, and he hoped that House would never find out. For both his and Cameron's sake.

House seemed to buy it, as he said, "Well, in that case… In that case, when she wakes up, we'll ask her. If she denies it, we'll get a sample of her hair and we'll find out ourselves."

"Don't you mean, when she denies it?" Foreman asked vehemently. "Everybody lies?"

"Ah, the technicalities. If I fire you… When I fire you… Doesn't really make much of a difference, does it?" House replied with that annoying smirk on his face that he was well known for.

Foreman rolled his eyes in annoyance. He had long gotten use to House's discriminating banter.

"So, no tox screen until she wakes up, right?" Foreman asked for confirmation. House nodded.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have The OC on TiVo. If you need me, suck it up for forty minutes. If Cameron wakes up, tell me," House said, grabbing his cane at its resting spot against the whiteboard, and limping out of the room and into his office at a speed which suggested that House was fit, and was a veteran at walking around with a cane.

Chase stared with disbelief as he ran after House, into his office, with Wilson hot at his heels, ready to stop him if fists started flying.

"Cameron's unconscious and all you can think of is your stupid TV show?" Chase spat at House.

"Well, I hear something bad happens to Ryan in this episode," House replied, his eyes set on the television, not even bothering to look up from the screen.

"You know what? I always thought that Cameron saw something in you, something that people would be able to find if they just looked hard enough. Something you had, that I obviously lacked. But looking at you, all I can see is a self-absorbed, egoistic, insensitive bastard. Only Cameron would be able to see anything good in you. I doubt you would even care if she dropped dead right now!" Chase shouted at House before stomping out of his office before House could say another word.

House stared at the door that Chase had slammed on his way out. Of all the patients he had, he did care for her. He did worry for her. He did fear for her. He just didn't know how to show it. How to break out of this shell that he had created for himself. If he didn't get into a relationship, there was no chance that the relationship would turn sour and hurt him. There was no chance that Cameron would leave him for someone younger, and with a better personality. There was no chance that he would feel more pain that he did now. He just hoped that he would be brave and strong enough to break out, to let her know. At least before it was too late.

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**AN**_: And there you go. I honestly hope it wasn't painful to read. I make no promises as to when my next update will be, but I hope you'll check back regularly for the next chapter. Thanks for taking the time to read it, and please review if you think I'm worthy of more of your no doubt precious time. Until next chapter, then! _


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